


The Second Dragon

by Chupigator



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Overwatch - Freeform, hancy, healing arrow, idk - Freeform, it's old and cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 21:23:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9460928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chupigator/pseuds/Chupigator
Summary: Old Healing Arrow One-Shot, supposed to be about two people falling for one another from a distance. Not my best, plus it's cheesy and old, but here you go anyway.





	

He always just sat there alone.

 

Whether it was before or after combat, he was always alone. He bothered no other, and no other bothered him. That was how it was, and that was how it had always been since the team was formed. The only exception was during battle, where communication was key to success, but that was the only time in which he would engage in conversation, even though the talking was brief and urgent. He only spoke when spoken to; he never delved into anyone's business, and whoever tried to get into his, he would be sure to shake the rattle and make them back off. Everyone knew his name, and everyone knew what he did; but that was all. That was it. Nothing more. Despite her feelings about him, it only made her more curious.

 

Sometimes she'd watch him from the corner of her eye, curious as to what was going on in his head. If she noticed him looking in her direction, her eyes would immediately move away. Surely if he caught her, he'd ask why. Perhaps he would even just scowl at her and silently tell her to look away or else. She knew a lot of interesting folks, but this particular man -- as much as she hated to admit it -- intrigued her. It was strange that she felt that way about him, knowing that she was used to feeling resentment toward him based on his past actions. She knew his little brother -- she saved him -- and she knew who had almost killed him. She always asked herself: how could any man be so cold, so vile, so brutally power-hungry enough to murder his own kin? She hated him for that, and grew angry when she learned that they would be working together. Time had passed -- much time -- and her thoughts took an odd turn. Now, she could only ask herself about this man and only imagine the answers.

 

Days passed, nights passed, and the routine was the same. She wanted to change that; she wanted to rid of that nagging feeling in her head, her thoughts beckoning her to acquire the knowledge that this man held of himself. She wanted to know how he felt about what happened, and how he felt that everyone knew about it. He probably would not answer her, but she was dying to know, and it annoyed her that she was acting in such a way. It wasn't fair to her, and it surely wasn't fair to him either. Another day would pass until she decided to go through with it. She felt like an idiot, but nothing seemed to be able to stop her.

 

She greeted him, her voice a bit hesitant and soft at first. He didn't look at her, focusing on the bow he was cleaning instead. He did answer her briefly at least. She sighed in relief in her head, glad that the hello was out of the way. She needed something to ask him about.

 

"I have never seen your weapon up close."

 

"You have no reason to."

 

She wasn't sure on how to respond to that, but she did her best to keep herself from bailing out.

 

"Yes, I do not. However, I still find it intriguing. It is not like any bow I have ever seen before. During battle, I have seen you use it, and I must say that it does put on quite its own show."

 

"That itself is an odd comment, even from you. This weapon kills; you tend to focus on what heals. If this is an attempt at conversation, you need to do a better job."

 

She cleared her throat. That was surely unexpected. Her lips slightly parted, a silence birthing between them as she did her best to come up with a good enough response to whatever that was.

 

"Well. There is no point in healing when nobody is harmed, yes?"

 

After he looked at her, she knew that she said something right.

 

"Good recovery. Let us see how long it takes until I decide to make you leave."

 

The conversation did not last very long -- ten minutes at most -- but she felt that it was a successful attempt at something. She learned nothing personal about him. More time was needed for that. She would be patient, she would be kind; she would be open-minded enough to learn the truth. Perhaps he was not as evil as she had once believed, that much she could sense from him. She wanted to believe that, and the only way to do that was to hear it directly from him. She would not give up, and she would find the answers.

 

Slowly, but surely, the conversations grew more frequent, even though the subjects were mainly trivial. The two of them seemed to grow a bit of comfort between them, and were not bothered by each other's presence as much as they were. However, as the connection spiked, it only lived for about a month before it started to fade away back to square one. Soon, it was a if they never spoke in the first place, her eyes only glancing at him a few times when he was in the same room.

 

A week passed since their last short conversation occurred, her other attempts halted by her own doubts and hesitations, and she had no idea how else to approach him. As much as she refused to give up, she had no plan to carry along with her, making her goal difficult in itself. She would be relieved, however, as well as left in surprise when the tables turned after the seventh day of the passing. 

 

"How many people have you saved?"

 

The question appeared behind her, its abruptness surely catching her off guard. "Pardon me?"

 

"You have saved many a man before, have you not? Not limited to this team alone. In the past -- you did. How many?"

 

The question was a strange one. She was not sure how to answer.

 

"I... I am not so sure. Many. It did not always work."

 

"No?"

 

She wasn't sure where that was going to lead. 

 

"No. As many a life I have saved, I too have ruined others. Revival is a dangerous science; a risk. It is hardly a miracle." She stopped herself, frowning and furrowing her brow. "I have work to do."

 

The conversation ended there, neither of the two saying a word as she left, leaving him only to watch her go in silent confusion. That was too deep of a subject to get into, especially for the likes of a man who killed someone she deemed important, his own brother, her friend. Those were dangerous waters, and she needed to avoid them. She knew well that it was not right to mention his younger kin before him, as much as she still silently despised him for that. She did not want to. No, she did not want to blame him. Not anymore.

 

"The price."

 

Those were his words, brought back up to her after three days. "Excuse me?"

 

"The price. What is it?"

 

She didn't understand. "Price... Price for what?"

 

"To save a man."

 

She hesitated to answer. "To save..."

 

"You saved him, did you not? How different he is now, not only in body, but in spirit. He is saved; but at what cost?"

 

She lowered her hands, gaze moving to the ground, head slightly shaking. "Why do you ask me such a question? I do not understand you. All you do is keep to yourself, so how could I? I thought that I could find out more about you on my own, but even that was too difficult for me. I resented you for what you did; you sickened me. Yet a little more than a month was all I needed to see that you were no monster. Trivial chat, words so brief, so small; yet, they already explained so much." She sighed, looking him in the eye. "Please, work with me. Help me understand. You already have been occupying my mind for long enough, so explain yourself and spare me the pain of trying to figure you out. Why are you asking me about resurrection?"

 

He did not answer at first, taking all that she had said with widened eyes. Soon, his expression darkened, eyes narrowing and focusing on her with an intense seriousness. Then, he answered.

 

"To save me."

 

Her expression changed. Her lips parted and a breath escaped her.

 

"You rescue the souls of the dead; you bring them back to life. Who is to say that you cannot bring the living to salvation?"

 

She could see the pain reflecting in his eyes, the age old regret of what he had done, the guilt consuming him and leaving nothing but a bitter emptiness inside his broken soul. She lowered her head, trying to figure out how to properly tell this man how much she wanted to heal him and forget all that he had done. "Science cannot help you."

 

"But you can."

 

He had already approached her, standing directly before her. She couldn't meet his eyes at first, but she eventually forced herself to, and once she did, she dared not to look away from the second dragon's sights.

 

"No kind of technology can repair the damage; you alone will be the one to save me from the dead man I have become... but will you?"

 

She knew what had become of the two of them, a sudden overwhelming feeling coming over her. She only shed a couple tears, wiping her face. She managed to smile so gently, even if he did not. "I will."

 

Within the moment, the two stood by each other closer than ever before, faces finally close enough for contact, a gesture shared between them that only reflected a tenderness, a token of endearment to seal the deal they had made.

 

No amount of science or technology could truly do something as incredible as reviving a dragon from the jaws of death; but no matter the method, this was her new mission.

 

No matter what.


End file.
